Talk: Pioneer reminiscences

Mrs. Mary Meadows
Dean's Springs, Arkansas
(Georgia Ridge, near Alma)
Collected by Irene Carlisle
October 5, 1951
Reel 133
THE LITTLE MEN OF GEORGIA RIDGE
Well, now—now how must I begin?
Well, I—'course, I don't remember just how old I was, but
I know, I was borned in '71, and it must have been about--'bout
'76--that'd put me about five year old, wouldn't it? In there.
And a cousin of mine and myself was out in the back lot, where
there was some big barns, and we had—the barns had big black-gum
horse-troughs in 'em. Oh, they 'as large; you could lay down in
'em, and hide in 'em. Well, we was in that yard a-playing, add all
at once they was—oh, they was six, seven or eight little men appeare
right out in fifteen feet of us—I know it was. And they were
dressed in--they were little, and they were dressed in red pants
--ah, blue pants and red coats, and had caps on. And they had
they was
little guns,/that long (measuring a little more than a forearm's
length) and they was a-holdin' their guns, and they was—I thought
they was playin' bear-base. That's what we thought it was—runnin',
and back'ards and for'ards. They was--they wasn't runnin', they
was steppin'. And we looked at 'em a few minutes, and we got
scared. And we run into this barn, and got into a big black trough;
and it 'as a log barn, and we'd peep through that crack and watch
them, and they kept that up, oh, I reckon about ten minutes, and
all at once they were gone. Gone! No, didn't see 'em go, and didn't
see 'em come.
(Was that around here?)
Right up here about three-quarters of a mile.
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 2
(is the barn still there?)
Ho, it's gone long ago.
(Did you tell about the men at home?)
Yell, I don't remember tellin'. We talked about it; but our
parents, in that day, never paid their children very much mind; I
don't remember, but they wouldn't 'a' believed it, you know... We
never forgotten it, and that—well, a year or two before she died,
about fifteen year ago, that 'as the last time she 'as down here;
and we alius had to talk it over, ever' time--oh, ever' whipstitch,
as my mother used to say, ever' whipstitch we'd have to talk about
our little people. And that's always been in my mind, end it's just
as clear in my mind today, lots better than lots of things that
occurred in the last week.
(Did you go back and look for them?)
Yeah, we'd look for 'em; yes, sir, we'd look; but never did see
anything of 'em.
(Were they out in broad daylight?)
Broad daylight. Right out in the--now, I-I know that my mother
lately, and later, after then, she said it was a mirage, that we'd
seen.
("Where could such little men have been?)
Well, I don't know; I never have seen any. Well, they was—they
looked like—they wasn't too awful little; they was about like a
twelve- or thirteen-, fourteen-year-old boy.
(Didn't look like children?)
No, they wasn't children; they were men.
(What kind of guns?)
Well, I just don't—just—they was about that long (measuring).
In the(iLrik hea nldistt.l eI nr ithfeliers ?h)a nds.
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 3
Yeah, or little B-B guns; something about like that.
(Not many people living around here then?)
Well, it wasn't—no, it wasn't too thickly settled. Oh, Mo,
not like it is now! And people didn't pay much mind to—never—
we children hadn't ever been anywhere; we 'as just raised--just—
they wasn't no place—-that wasn't too long, you know, after the
Civil War; and it wasn't like it is now, and people, they had too
much thought behind them on the Civil War, you know; that's what
they gen'ally all, when I 'as a child, that's what they—
all get together, and that's what they'd talk about.
Now that's all they was of it.
(Remember what day of the week it was?)
Oh, no. I don't remember that. Well, I don't know; no, I wouldn't
remember that at all.
(They didn't talk among themselves?)
Never he ard one word. Hot one word. Now I don't know how...
Well, we was scared; we 'as scared; we got away from 'em, and
jumped in the barn, and got in that big trougn; and the logs, you
know—we squatted down, while we 'as a-hidin', but we looked through
the cracks and watched 'em. But all at once they were gone. Just
vanished away. Yes, just gone.
(Did you notice how shoes were made?)
No. Didn't--I don't remember that. But they did--I know they
had shoes on. No, they wasn't barefooted. And they just school-hopped
I called it, back'ards—just like—they was some a-goin' that-away,
and some a-comin' back this-way; now, that's the way
we seen 'em.
(Like a game?)
Yeah. Just like a game. Now, I don't know what it could 2 beer
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 4
(What kind of coats did you say they had?)
frock-tail. You--you remember that?--cut off. Little long tail
behind, you know, and cut off here, I know you've seen 'em in
costumes. (Here Mrs. Meadows rose and showed how the coats were
made). They come here, right together; then they was cut off this-a
w a y , n o w ; cut off this-a-way, and went back.
(Little tails in the back?)
Yeah. But just rounded. The coat come down that-away, and they
went this way.
... (And they were bright blue?) (Interviewer was referring to
trousers just mentioned in off-tape conversation).
Yeah. Hit 'as a bright blue, now; hit wasn't no dark blue. It
'as the prettiest blue am the prettiest red I ever looked at. Red
and blue. Combination suits, I'd call 'em. Ever' one 'as dressed
just alike.
(You said you never had seen a frock-tail coat then?)
were
Oh, no, I didn't know what they called. I knowed that they--
it was coats. I knowed it 'as a wrap of—suit. But I never did know
what to call it, and neither did she. Yes, when we got big enough,
when we happened to see 'em, then, "Aw-w-w!" she says, "There's the
little frock-tail coats that our little men had on!" Made like that.
Now, I remember that awful well. And just a-goin' through my mind,
oh, we talked about it lots and lots and lots. And I know they had
caps on.
(What kind?)
I don't know. It was—I can't draw my mind to tell you which
they was, red or blue, but they was--it was all—they wasn't but
two colors, now, blue and the red; and the trousers was blue and
the coats were red, and --I don't know; the caps probably was
blue; but I can't size that in my mind.
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 5
(Did you say that in those days the old fort at Fort
Smith was operating?)
No; it 'as there; and van Buren was a small place; hut now,r
less'n that, just them two, they 'as nothing else here. People just
lived here in--where they'd come in after the war, you know, and
put up log houses and barns; and they had to go to van Buren to get
their mail. Yes; and they had to go horseback.
(Probably didn't go often?)
No; they just--people all--dozen people all come together,
when one would go; he'd bring all the mail.
(When did your folks settle here?)
Well, they settled here in '48, ray mother; come from Kentucky
c
here. And my father come in--'long about that time; I couldn't--
don't remember now what time he come; he come from (Georgia, and
Mother come from Kentucky.
(You were born right here?)
I'll show you when we get--I'll show you when we go up
there, right the very spot where the house was that I 'as bornedr f
in.
(Here there was some off-tape conversation, which resumes
with Mrs. Meadows telling about other odd happenings in the
community.
well,
It was a haunted place;/and the Khowlson
two or
graveyard, cemetery, down here about/three mile, they had—that
used to be haunted.
(By people buried there?)
No, they—well, one — one yarn about it, the—the haunt
come one night and throwed the dishes all out, and done--shuck
the dishes, and got a big thing, and it come in with big wings,
they said, and when it got through, it just vizzed out and vent
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 6
right to the graveyard. Mow you know that that must have been
imagination.
(How many saw it?)
Oh, lots of people seen it 'cause I know all about it;
'cause it was my father's sister that lived there; her husband
was killed in the war; and it was a big log house; and she kept
wantin' 'em to come and move her out. Said it was haunted. Well,
they just thought maybe she was just wantin' to leave, or somehow
or 'nother, now, I can't remember. But finally she got 'em all
together, brothers and their families, and told 'em to come down
and stay all night. Well, they went; and they—they seen enough,
they loaded her at midnight, and out they come with her. Bow,
that' s—that' s the way they talked it. I was small.
(Happened more than once?)
was
Oh, hi--hit run 'bout--everybody said it was haunted.
Well, that's the way this Ibbetson place, right—that slate-bank,
right across, on this side of the creek,, you cross the little
bridge; that's the Ibbetson place; why, it 'as a big double log
house, had a hall in it. They claimed, the people did, that it
was haunted; with a—the doors would come open, and they'd close
'em, and they couldn't keep 'em closed; oh, lots of things that
I can't remember.
(House still there?)
Bo; hit's gone, years and years ago. And then up here in
the Gain settlement, the big—big stories about the haunts. Call
'em the haunt-houses. But I don't remember.
But I never—I never stayed nowhere that ever I heard
anything that I didn't know what—didn't find out, a,nd never seen
nothin' in my life. But I was allus afraid, but I ain't now. I
used to be afraid, and think they sure was ghosts, but I—well;
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 7
it's just—oh, they's things comes out lots of times; 'long,
twenty-five or thirty year ago, down here, down at Dyer, why,
they decided they was a house haunted, and hit run lots of
people; nobody wouldn't move into it. I don't know; it 'as
somebody a-throwin'—a venquil--throwin' his voice, throw it
down in the well; and they found out that that 'as all they
was to that. But it 'as--it used to be awful common; that 'as
bedtime stories that (....) people told their childern, about
the haunts.
But I never did see nothing that I didn't know what was»
or but what I could puzzle it out, only them little people.
And I sure seen them, now! And wherever they come from I don't
know, and wherever they went I don't know; they was gone.
(You were probably frightened at their disappearing)
Not we never give that a thought, now, about bein'
scared; we's just afraid they might git us. That's what we 'as
afraid of that they might git us.
(They didn't act like they saw you?)
No; they didn't pay any 'tention. And I know that
"Ah." they say, "ah, you dreamed it." Well; we never dreamed
no such stuff*
No, they were there, now; there's no question about that.
Where they come from, I don't know.
(Have you any ideas on what they might have been?)
No; nothing only I know that they was some people.
(Couldn't think up any reason for their being there?)
Oh, no. No. No. Since l've got older, after I got older.
me and Lily would talk. Why, we—she—she could look into it
better than I could, some way or 'nother. She said they were
Mrs. Mary Meadows—Reel 133
little people. Little people; said they had come from
SOMEWHERE bound to 'a' come from somewhere. But then I
never heard of—
(Nobody in community ever saw them come or go?)
No; no; no; never did; never did. I wouldn't know.
(If they had come in as people do wouldn't they have
been seen?)
Well, bound to somebody else to 'a' seen fem, to
ever come back.

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Mrs. Mary Meadows
Dean's Springs, Arkansas
(Georgia Ridge, near Alma)
Collected by Irene Carlisle
October 5, 1951
Reel 133
THE LITTLE MEN OF GEORGIA RIDGE
Well, now—now how must I begin?
Well, I—'course, I don't remember just how old I was, but
I know, I was borned in '71, and it must have been about--'bout
'76--that'd put me about five year old, wouldn't it? In there.
And a cousin of mine and myself was out in the back lot, where
there was some big barns, and we had—the barns had big black-gum
horse-troughs in 'em. Oh, they 'as large; you could lay down in
'em, and hide in 'em. Well, we was in that yard a-playing, add all
at once they was—oh, they was six, seven or eight little men appeare
right out in fifteen feet of us—I know it was. And they were
dressed in--they were little, and they were dressed in red pants
--ah, blue pants and red coats, and had caps on. And they had
they was
little guns,/that long (measuring a little more than a forearm's
length) and they was a-holdin' their guns, and they was—I thought
they was playin' bear-base. That's what we thought it was—runnin',
and back'ards and for'ards. They was--they wasn't runnin', they
was steppin'. And we looked at 'em a few minutes, and we got
scared. And we run into this barn, and got into a big black trough;
and it 'as a log barn, and we'd peep through that crack and watch
them, and they kept that up, oh, I reckon about ten minutes, and
all at once they were gone. Gone! No, didn't see 'em go, and didn't
see 'em come.
(Was that around here?)
Right up here about three-quarters of a mile.
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 2
(is the barn still there?)
Ho, it's gone long ago.
(Did you tell about the men at home?)
Yell, I don't remember tellin'. We talked about it; but our
parents, in that day, never paid their children very much mind; I
don't remember, but they wouldn't 'a' believed it, you know... We
never forgotten it, and that—well, a year or two before she died,
about fifteen year ago, that 'as the last time she 'as down here;
and we alius had to talk it over, ever' time--oh, ever' whipstitch,
as my mother used to say, ever' whipstitch we'd have to talk about
our little people. And that's always been in my mind, end it's just
as clear in my mind today, lots better than lots of things that
occurred in the last week.
(Did you go back and look for them?)
Yeah, we'd look for 'em; yes, sir, we'd look; but never did see
anything of 'em.
(Were they out in broad daylight?)
Broad daylight. Right out in the--now, I-I know that my mother
lately, and later, after then, she said it was a mirage, that we'd
seen.
("Where could such little men have been?)
Well, I don't know; I never have seen any. Well, they was—they
looked like—they wasn't too awful little; they was about like a
twelve- or thirteen-, fourteen-year-old boy.
(Didn't look like children?)
No, they wasn't children; they were men.
(What kind of guns?)
Well, I just don't—just—they was about that long (measuring).
In the(iLrik hea nldistt.l eI nr ithfeliers ?h)a nds.
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 3
Yeah, or little B-B guns; something about like that.
(Not many people living around here then?)
Well, it wasn't—no, it wasn't too thickly settled. Oh, Mo,
not like it is now! And people didn't pay much mind to—never—
we children hadn't ever been anywhere; we 'as just raised--just—
they wasn't no place—-that wasn't too long, you know, after the
Civil War; and it wasn't like it is now, and people, they had too
much thought behind them on the Civil War, you know; that's what
they gen'ally all, when I 'as a child, that's what they—
all get together, and that's what they'd talk about.
Now that's all they was of it.
(Remember what day of the week it was?)
Oh, no. I don't remember that. Well, I don't know; no, I wouldn't
remember that at all.
(They didn't talk among themselves?)
Never he ard one word. Hot one word. Now I don't know how...
Well, we was scared; we 'as scared; we got away from 'em, and
jumped in the barn, and got in that big trougn; and the logs, you
know—we squatted down, while we 'as a-hidin', but we looked through
the cracks and watched 'em. But all at once they were gone. Just
vanished away. Yes, just gone.
(Did you notice how shoes were made?)
No. Didn't--I don't remember that. But they did--I know they
had shoes on. No, they wasn't barefooted. And they just school-hopped
I called it, back'ards—just like—they was some a-goin' that-away,
and some a-comin' back this-way; now, that's the way
we seen 'em.
(Like a game?)
Yeah. Just like a game. Now, I don't know what it could 2 beer
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 4
(What kind of coats did you say they had?)
frock-tail. You--you remember that?--cut off. Little long tail
behind, you know, and cut off here, I know you've seen 'em in
costumes. (Here Mrs. Meadows rose and showed how the coats were
made). They come here, right together; then they was cut off this-a
w a y , n o w ; cut off this-a-way, and went back.
(Little tails in the back?)
Yeah. But just rounded. The coat come down that-away, and they
went this way.
... (And they were bright blue?) (Interviewer was referring to
trousers just mentioned in off-tape conversation).
Yeah. Hit 'as a bright blue, now; hit wasn't no dark blue. It
'as the prettiest blue am the prettiest red I ever looked at. Red
and blue. Combination suits, I'd call 'em. Ever' one 'as dressed
just alike.
(You said you never had seen a frock-tail coat then?)
were
Oh, no, I didn't know what they called. I knowed that they--
it was coats. I knowed it 'as a wrap of—suit. But I never did know
what to call it, and neither did she. Yes, when we got big enough,
when we happened to see 'em, then, "Aw-w-w!" she says, "There's the
little frock-tail coats that our little men had on!" Made like that.
Now, I remember that awful well. And just a-goin' through my mind,
oh, we talked about it lots and lots and lots. And I know they had
caps on.
(What kind?)
I don't know. It was—I can't draw my mind to tell you which
they was, red or blue, but they was--it was all—they wasn't but
two colors, now, blue and the red; and the trousers was blue and
the coats were red, and --I don't know; the caps probably was
blue; but I can't size that in my mind.
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 5
(Did you say that in those days the old fort at Fort
Smith was operating?)
No; it 'as there; and van Buren was a small place; hut now,r
less'n that, just them two, they 'as nothing else here. People just
lived here in--where they'd come in after the war, you know, and
put up log houses and barns; and they had to go to van Buren to get
their mail. Yes; and they had to go horseback.
(Probably didn't go often?)
No; they just--people all--dozen people all come together,
when one would go; he'd bring all the mail.
(When did your folks settle here?)
Well, they settled here in '48, ray mother; come from Kentucky
c
here. And my father come in--'long about that time; I couldn't--
don't remember now what time he come; he come from (Georgia, and
Mother come from Kentucky.
(You were born right here?)
I'll show you when we get--I'll show you when we go up
there, right the very spot where the house was that I 'as bornedr f
in.
(Here there was some off-tape conversation, which resumes
with Mrs. Meadows telling about other odd happenings in the
community.
well,
It was a haunted place;/and the Khowlson
two or
graveyard, cemetery, down here about/three mile, they had—that
used to be haunted.
(By people buried there?)
No, they—well, one — one yarn about it, the—the haunt
come one night and throwed the dishes all out, and done--shuck
the dishes, and got a big thing, and it come in with big wings,
they said, and when it got through, it just vizzed out and vent
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 6
right to the graveyard. Mow you know that that must have been
imagination.
(How many saw it?)
Oh, lots of people seen it 'cause I know all about it;
'cause it was my father's sister that lived there; her husband
was killed in the war; and it was a big log house; and she kept
wantin' 'em to come and move her out. Said it was haunted. Well,
they just thought maybe she was just wantin' to leave, or somehow
or 'nother, now, I can't remember. But finally she got 'em all
together, brothers and their families, and told 'em to come down
and stay all night. Well, they went; and they—they seen enough,
they loaded her at midnight, and out they come with her. Bow,
that' s—that' s the way they talked it. I was small.
(Happened more than once?)
was
Oh, hi--hit run 'bout--everybody said it was haunted.
Well, that's the way this Ibbetson place, right—that slate-bank,
right across, on this side of the creek,, you cross the little
bridge; that's the Ibbetson place; why, it 'as a big double log
house, had a hall in it. They claimed, the people did, that it
was haunted; with a—the doors would come open, and they'd close
'em, and they couldn't keep 'em closed; oh, lots of things that
I can't remember.
(House still there?)
Bo; hit's gone, years and years ago. And then up here in
the Gain settlement, the big—big stories about the haunts. Call
'em the haunt-houses. But I don't remember.
But I never—I never stayed nowhere that ever I heard
anything that I didn't know what—didn't find out, a,nd never seen
nothin' in my life. But I was allus afraid, but I ain't now. I
used to be afraid, and think they sure was ghosts, but I—well;
Mrs. Mary Meadows--Reel 133 7
it's just—oh, they's things comes out lots of times; 'long,
twenty-five or thirty year ago, down here, down at Dyer, why,
they decided they was a house haunted, and hit run lots of
people; nobody wouldn't move into it. I don't know; it 'as
somebody a-throwin'—a venquil--throwin' his voice, throw it
down in the well; and they found out that that 'as all they
was to that. But it 'as--it used to be awful common; that 'as
bedtime stories that (....) people told their childern, about
the haunts.
But I never did see nothing that I didn't know what was»
or but what I could puzzle it out, only them little people.
And I sure seen them, now! And wherever they come from I don't
know, and wherever they went I don't know; they was gone.
(You were probably frightened at their disappearing)
Not we never give that a thought, now, about bein'
scared; we's just afraid they might git us. That's what we 'as
afraid of that they might git us.
(They didn't act like they saw you?)
No; they didn't pay any 'tention. And I know that
"Ah." they say, "ah, you dreamed it." Well; we never dreamed
no such stuff*
No, they were there, now; there's no question about that.
Where they come from, I don't know.
(Have you any ideas on what they might have been?)
No; nothing only I know that they was some people.
(Couldn't think up any reason for their being there?)
Oh, no. No. No. Since l've got older, after I got older.
me and Lily would talk. Why, we—she—she could look into it
better than I could, some way or 'nother. She said they were
Mrs. Mary Meadows—Reel 133
little people. Little people; said they had come from
SOMEWHERE bound to 'a' come from somewhere. But then I
never heard of—
(Nobody in community ever saw them come or go?)
No; no; no; never did; never did. I wouldn't know.
(If they had come in as people do wouldn't they have
been seen?)
Well, bound to somebody else to 'a' seen fem, to
ever come back.